


Born to Hand Jive, Baby

by apackofsmokes



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: First Time, Grease AU, M/M, Summer Lovin'
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-04
Updated: 2016-02-04
Packaged: 2018-05-18 03:12:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,175
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5895904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/apackofsmokes/pseuds/apackofsmokes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The summer of ‘58 was suppose to be empty and pointless, what with Scott spending the Summer with his father and the rest of the Pack doing their own thing. </p>
<p>Then Stiles met Derek.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Born to Hand Jive, Baby

**Author's Note:**

> Grease Live happened, then so did this.

“Stiles, I don’t think this is the best idea.” Scott whispers by his side where they’re peeking at the cheerleaders practicing from under the bleachers.

Stiles scrunches his upturned nose. “I swear it’s him Scott. I can’t just not talk to him. I don’t think you understand."

Scott scuffs his sneaker against the dirt and rolls his eyes. "So you had some beach fling with the new guy, big-"

"No! No, Scotty. We made sweet sweet love while the ocean waves crashed and the sun was setting. I didn’t even get sand in my ass, Scott! It was down right magical and I refuse to throw that away!” He shrieks.

The summer of ‘58 was suppose to be empty and pointless, what with Scott spending the Summer with his father and the rest of the Pack doing their own thing.

Then Stiles met Derek.

And boy was Derek Hale the sweetest thing he ever laid eyes on. Stiles was funky monkey over him.

Derek’s sister Laura had been home from college and declared that the siblings needed to escape their hectic family for two weeks of fun in the sun.

Stiles hadn’t met Laura himself, but they’d walked along the pier day after day, hands clasped while Derek told him about all the Hale’s and their crazy antics. About his love for classic literature, Elvis, and basketball. That he was even on the team back in Redding.

Geez, what Stiles wouldn’t give to see him in those tiny shorts.

In turn Stiles told him about his father being sheriff and all the shit him and Scott pulled over the years.

It was easy and wonderful in a way nothing had ever been before. Stiles happily caught in a haze of the California Summer.

They’d even gone to a carnival. Which turned into a competition of who could win who more prizes. Ending with soft, cotton candy flavored kisses at the tip-top of the ferris wheel.

On one less than pleasant night, though it hadn’t started that way, the sheriff caught them parking up on Beacon Point.

-

 

_Stiles_ _was panting in Derek’s mouth. Their bodies both slick with sweat from the heat. Seats sticking to their skin._

_“Stiles, so close. God, just- more please.” Derek begs under him as Stiles jerks them faster. Derek’s nails scratching down his back._

_“So good Der, fuck. How are you real?” Stiles moans into the crook of his neck._

_With a flick of his wrist they’re both coming, making a sticky mess between them._

_“One of these days you’re gonna kill me, Der.” Stiles says, grinning dreamily._

_Derek clutches their intertwined fingers to his chest. “How will I go on? What desolate future await me?"_

_"Oh, ha ha.” Stiles pouts._

_Sudden there’s a light shining through the window and goddamn it, Stiles knows that silhouette._

_They throw on their clothes and step out of the vehicle._

_"And just what were you two boys up to?“ The sheriff asks, narrowing his gaze on his son._

_Stiles, who unsurprisingly had never been caught in this situation before, flounders. "Uh… we were just-"_

_"Hand jiving!” Derek shouts in a panic. “He was teaching me to hand jive."_

_Stiles groans, palming his face. Wonders if he can throw himself off the nearest cliff, before the embarrassment alone kills him._

_His dad snorts. "I bet."_

_Luckily, he lets them both off with a warning to get their asses home and a bucket load of mortification._

-

Nonetheless, Derek hung the moon as far as he was concerned. But after losing their virginity together on a warm August night and a sorrowful goodbye kiss, he didn’t think they’d ever see each other again.

Come the the first day of senior year, lo and behold, guess who he sees walking to class from across the parking lot with all the squares. That’s right, the future Mr. Hale-Stilinski.

Currently, he spots Derek shaking a pom-pom at another cheerleader.

"Summer lovin’ Scott! Does my happiness mean nothing to you?!” He shouts indignantly.

“Just go talk to him then. Stop being such a pansy."

Stiles raises his eyebrows. "Oh it just that easy huh? Just walk up to him and say 'oh hey Derek remember me? You pounded my ass so perfectly I forgot my own name. Oh, you did too? What a coincidence?!’"

"Stiles-"

But Stiles cuts him off hysterically, ”'Oh hey Derek, I know my gang looks kinda scary what with our fast cars and leather jackets, but do you wanna wear mine? Wanna go steady? Wanna let me carry your bunny toothed children?!’“

Scott’s eyes go wide. "Stiles I really think you should-"

"No, Scott! He’s the love of my life and I’m nothing but trouble!” He takes his comb out his jacket pocket and runs it through his gelled hair. More of a nervous tick than actual maintenance. “He deserves the world, and I can’t even beat pretty boy Whittemore in a street race."

"Well maybe if you weren’t driving around that blue hunk 'a junk."

"Hey Roscoe’s-"

But that… was definitely not Scott’s voice. Stiles whips around so fast he thinks he hears his neck pop.

There stands Derek in his maroon and white uniform with BHHS Cyclones emblazoned on the sweater, glasses perched on his sharp nose, hazel eyes sparkling. His bunny teeth front and center in a bright smile.

"Der-” Stiles breathes, all moony eyed.

“I’ll just-” and Scott takes his leave, abandoning the two lovers under the bleachers.

Derek eyes Stiles from his jacket down to his ratty converse. “I didn’t know you were a greaser,” he says nonchalantly. “It’s a good look."

Stiles shrugs, ducking his head, hopefully hiding his blush.

Over the summer Stiles had mostly been wearing his swims trunks, hair wet with seawater. But then again Derek’s appearance had been the same.

"And you’re- "Stiles pauses, glancing over the other boy, "A dream come true."

Derek laughs and Stiles swears his heart bursts. "Well since you’re awake, how about we get a milkshake? Or do you wanna count your fingers first?”

“Ten! There’s ten, no need to count.” Stiles says eagerly, spreading his hand out wide. “I know this great diner, best curly fries-”

He stops abruptly when Derek walks forward snaking his arms around Stiles’ waist, lips dragging along his ear whispering heatedly, "Or we can finish what we started this Summer in that monstrosity you use for transportation. I, for one, know just how big the backseat is."

Oh god, Derek’s going to make him come his pants with nothing more than his voice.

"Yea- yeah fuck. Let’s go baby.” Stiles stutters out huskily.

Derek bites behind his ear making him melt, “Let’s get one thing straight Stilinski,” he punctuates with another bite, this time to Stiles’ neck. “I’m no one’s baby."

And shit, Stiles can work with that. Fuck, he’d jump in front a bus if Derek asked. Wouldn’t even have to ask _nicely_.

With that, Derek drags Stiles by his hand to Roscoe and shows him Summer’s not the only time to have a blast.

 

**Author's Note:**

> come say hi on my trash [blog :o](http://smokesforwolves.tumblr.com)


End file.
